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The Emergence of 'Doomspending' The term 'doomspending' has become synonymous with the declining fortunes of young Westerners. It refers to spending frivolously with no concern for future financial consequences. A survey by Credit Karma found that 27% of Americans doomspend to deal with stress, with the numbers rising to 37% of Gen Z and 39% of millennials. The Cultural Context of Doomspending The discourse around doomspending echoes commentary that traces back to the aftermath of the Great Recession. The term 'doomspending' is a more recent phenomenon, tied to changes in Western economies since the financial crisis cratered the traditional life script almost 20 years ago. The Data Analysis: Financial Anxiety and Spending Habits Elderly North Americans and Western Europeans have difficulty internalizing the changing economic landscape. In the United States, the dollar lost 30% of its value since Covid, according to the Truflation index. More importantly, when discussing the perspective of boomers, it lost 60% of its value since the 90s, and 88% of its value since the 70s. The Impact Analysis: Shifting Attitudes Towards Spending and Saving Young people just don't believe that the economy is moral in general, that those with wealth earned it through playing by the rules. They see the economy as a casino, where some get lucky, but most lose. This has led to a shift in attitudes towards spending and saving, with many young people opting to spend today rather than save for tomorrow. The Prediction: A New Economic Reality Spend today because there won't be a tomorrow is a self-fulfilling prophecy. The only way to stop it is to make people believe that an average person of average abilities can wake up every day, play by the rules, and expect to lead a fulfilling, if uneventful, life. If the general public doesn't believe that to be true, let them eat Deliveroo.

The UK's Energy Crisis: Superficial Measures vs. Fundamental Resilience Rachel Reeves's announcement of a series of cost of living measures this week shows a government trying to prove it still has agency and relevance. The VAT cuts on summer attractions such as theme parks and soft-play centres, free bus rides for the under-16s in England and reduced import tariffs on food are politically useful, but they do not fundamentally alter the UK's exposure to imported energy shocks. This is a mini-budget, with the emphasis on the mini. The inflationary impact of the Iran crisis, however, will be substantial. That is why the chancellor is moving into crisis-management mode with industrial resilience funds and thinly veiled threats to tax profiteers. But it is unlikely to be enough. The Energy Bill Surge: A Direct Hit to Households The repercussions from the closure of the strait of Hormuz are reviving the need for more radical state fiscal intervention. Ms Reeves moved pre-emptively because the energy regulator is next week expected to announce that energy bills are likely to rise by £209 to £1,850 a year for a typical dual-fuel household from July. That is an increase of 13% on the current £1,641 annual bill. It will be a direct hit to household disposable incomes – and Labour's central political claim that the cost of living crisis is easing on its watch. Worse may still be to come. If households absorb a summer rise in bills and then face costs rising again before winter, the government risks a return to the levels of financial anxiety felt after the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Britain's Energy Vulnerability: Decades of Policy Missteps Britain's inflation vulnerability is because the country is dependent on energy from abroad. This is a result of the country prioritising for decades short-term profits from finance over building homegrown resilience. Labour ministers waived some Russian oil sanctions this week, allowing imports of diesel and jet fuel refined from Russian crude in third countries. The decision reflects Britain's shrinking refining capacity: the UK can now process only half as much petroleum as it could two decades ago. Ed Miliband, the energy secretary, is right that the safest long-term buffer is reducing fossil-fuel exposure itself rather than deepening gas dependence through new storage systems. But electrification takes years; Britain's energy system still faces winter usage spikes; and even in a green power future the UK would still have to import some materials and technology. The Political Economy of Energy Security Britain does not risk a pummelling from the markets because it may veer from the Treasury view. Britain's financialised economy operates through expectations and institutional structures far more than through simple trade arithmetic alone. Britain is not a developing nation dependent on scarce dollar reserves accumulated through exports. What markets punish most severely is political incoherence and weakness. The former prime minister Liz Truss guaranteed inflationary instability without a productive strategy – and paid for her mistakes. Britain has far more room for state-led transformation than the economic orthodoxy admits. It could simultaneously insulate households from energy costs and build a green power base. But transitions must be politically and institutionally coherent enough to sustain confidence while restructuring occurs. The Path Forward: Balancing Transition and Resilience Can Britain move away fast enough from carbon sources before the next series of external shocks – including that caused by the war in Iran – in the coming months? The jury remains out on that question. The country clearly must radically accelerate the transition to clean power. But it also needs a form of buffering and resilience during the transition itself. The government's current approach of mini-measures may provide temporary relief, but without a comprehensive strategy to address the fundamental vulnerabilities in Britain's energy system, households and businesses will remain exposed to the volatility of global energy markets. The challenge for the government is to balance immediate relief with the long-term structural changes needed to build genuine energy resilience.

The Unparalleled Experience of CannesNothing prepares you for the shock that is the Cannes film festival: the adrenaline, the fatigue, the elation and the emotion, but also the hunger, the anger, the magic and the ridicule. For young cinephiles, and for almost everybody who works in the film industry, it is the mecca of cinema and has been so for nearly eight decades. Anyone going for the first time this week, as I did 25 years ago, should not listen to the old grognards – Cannes' battle-worn veterans – who will lament that the festival has become an abominable circus and swear this year will be their last. It is a circus, and you can bet they will be back for as long as their knees can take it. For there is nothing quite like it.From Resistance to Global Cinema HubBorn to counteract Benito Mussolini's Venice film festival, its first edition was planned for September 1939, but Adolf Hitler had other plans. The previous year, under pressure from Berlin and Rome, the Venice film festival's top prize, the Coppa Mussolini, was handed to Leni Riefenstahl's propaganda film Olympia, prompting the French, British and American delegates to walk out. Hence Cannes, conceived as the festival of the "free world". More than 80 years later, for all its sins, it has remained faithful to that founding promise.The Expansive Scale of Modern CannesOver the decades, Cannes has mutated into an ever-hungrier mammoth, needing more space, and more venues, as it attracts an increasing number of journalists and professionals. A purpose-built Palais des Festivals had to be erected in the 1980s. "The bunker", as we have come to call it, is not exactly beautiful but brutally efficient at managing Cannes' mind-boggling crowds. This year, about 40,000 accredited festival-goers are descending on the French Riviera from 140 different countries, with dozens of films selected across all sidebars. At the same time, the Marché du Film, running alongside the festival since the late 1960s, is gathering about 16,000 participants, with thousands of films and projects up for sale. Cannes is both a summit for the cinema elite and a giant film bazaar.Three Worlds Colliding at La CroisetteFor 11 days in May, three different worlds lead parallel lives – critics, deal-makers and red-carpet royalty – colliding almost by accident on the seafront boulevard known as La Croisette. Hundreds of critics watch multiple films a day with monastic discipline. When they give in to parties, they bitterly regret it the next morning. You can spot some of us sleeping through entire screenings; how some colleagues manage to review films is a mystery. I remember a well-known French critic who had such vivid dreams in the darkness that he became convinced they were scenes in the films. His reviews were full of brilliant analysis of moments that did not exist.We critics rush between screenings, press conferences, interviews, our desks and the bunker's free espresso machines, often forgetting to eat or even pee. Downstairs, in the bunker's basement, and in hotel suites and rented apartments, the film market runs day and night: buyers juggle numbers, producers charm, directors and screenwriters fight for their vision. Above them floats Cannes' top layer – stars and "talent" spending hours in hair and makeup before climbing the 24 steps of the red carpet in borrowed couture and jewellery. When people in the industry groan, "oh God, it's Cannes again", it is this collision of financial anxiety, choreographed glamour and sheer exhaustion they are bracing themselves for.The Magic and Meaning Behind the GlamourThese worlds sometimes collide in the most poetic or grotesque ways. One morning, rushing to my first screening at 7.30am, I was walking along the Croisette when I saw, coming towards me, slightly dishevelled in a tuxedo, Jack Nicholson on his way back to his hotel after a long night. I smiled, he smiled back. He was alone, no bodyguards, no chaperones. Those were the days. I also shared a lift with Takeshi Kitano in full samurai attire, and I will never forget turning into a hotel corridor and finding myself nose to nose with Max von Sydow – Ingmar Bergman's medieval knight from The Seventh Seal. My cinephile heart skipped a beat.One of my favourite sidebars in Cannes, alongside the competition where you watch the year's best crop of films, is Cannes Classics, showing restored world masterpieces and documentaries about cinema. I always start the festival there: it is the best way to reset and begin afresh. Then I am ready for the 10-day onslaught of motion pictures, and for the magic moment that precedes each Cannes screening – the festival's own jingle, a palm ascending the red carpet from underwater and then into the sky, lifted by the ethereal arpeggios of Camille Saint-Saëns's Carnival of the Animals.Cannes: Enduring Symbol of Cinematic ResistanceIn 1955, Cannes gave its first official Palme d'Or to Delbert Mann's Marty; half a century later I found myself befriending its wonderful star, Betsy Blair, on the Croisette. I had the joy of seeing Ken Loach twice climbing those steps to collect the Palme, escorted by police outriders from Nice airport as if he were a head of state. I watched Iranian directors Jafar Panahi and Mohammad Rasoulof showing films at peril to their lives. For all the craziness of the red carpet and the samurai outfits, Cannes never forgets that it was founded as a gesture of resistance. That, as much as the glamour and the exhaustion, is why we keep going back.